Long Game
by annabates21
Summary: Davy usually gets the girls. Of course, he doesn't get to hold on to them for very long. Meanwhile, Peter might be playing a long game.
1. Chapter 1

I had a sudden idea. Please review if you read! Even if it's bad - at least then I can try to fix it :-)

* * *

The good thing about being Davy Jones was that he usually got the girls.

The bad thing about being Davy Jones was that he didn't usually get to hold on to them for very long. Sometimes he didn't even _get_ to the 'holding' part.

Take Ellen. He and his friends had spent a lot of time trying to prove to her parents that Davy Jones was the sort of fella that could be trusted with someone's daughter. Not that Davy minded spending all that time and effort. Ellen was a groovy girl. Why, the first time he'd seen her, he'd known. Birds chirping, stars sparkling. She was the girl for him.

Then she'd been accepted to that fancy French finishing school.

Peter asked, "What's there to finish?"

Micky said, "She looks pretty done to me."

Ellen's dad had pulled him aside and talked to him, man to musician. But Davy hadn't needed the talk. He'd known already. Dreams were important. You couldn't take someone's dreams away from them. How would he feel if Ellen asked him to give up being a Monkee? He couldn't do that to her.

"She's in a band too?" Peter said. Mike sighed. He reached out and grabbed Peter's hand, and gently made him slap his own forehead with it.

And Davy already knew he wasn't built for long-distance relationships.

Micky said, "I'll say. Remember when you dated that six foot tall model? That ended badly and that was only a distance of a couple of feet."

So they'd left. Slipped away before Ellen even noticed they were gone.

"It was the right thing to do. If you'd stayed, you woulda only mixed her up more," Mike told him.

Davy knew he'd done the right thing. It didn't make it any easier to get to sleep that night. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed.

"Are you still upset about Ellen?" Peter's voice floated over.

"I dunno," he said. He frowned. "I'm happy for her, really. Just. I dunno. Something just feels wrong, you know?"

"Oh. Well – you did like her a lot."

"Yeah, but…I think the thing that's really bugging me is that I didn't get a chance to say a proper goodbye to her." He sighed again.

Peter sat up in his bed. "But you can!"

Davy frowned. "What?"

"You can do it right now."

"I can't go to her house now. Her father'd call the cops."

"You don't have to go to her house. You don't even have to leave the room," Peter said.

Davy sat up as Peter dropped onto his bed. "What are you talking about?"

"You can say goodbye to _me_. I'll be Ellen for you," Peter said.

"You're going to be Ellen?" Davy looked him up and down. "I can't see it. Maybe it's the nightcap."

Peter took off the nightcap.

Davy decided, "It's not the nightcap."

"Well then, you can close your eyes."

Davy thought about it. He shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Now, tell me how you feel," Peter said.

"I dunno." Davy wrinkled his nose. "I know you mean well, but it feels weird, Pete."

"Oh. Well then, maybe I should just" –

Peter sounded hurt. The bed shifted as he moved away. Davy reached out blindly and managed to grab his arm. "No. No, it's a good idea. I just. Need a few seconds to get used to it."

Peter sat back down.

He'd only said it because Peter'd sounded so hurt. But maybe it _was_ a good idea. Couldn't hurt to try, anyway.

He took a breath. "Um. Ellen."

"Yes? Do you have something you want to say to me?" Peter didn't change his voice at all. Davy couldn't figure out whether that was a good or bad thing. It made it impossible to forget that he was talking to Peter, and not Ellen. But then, at least he could take it seriously, since Peter wasn't trying to do a girl's voice.

"Yeah. I wanted to say. Uh. Well. I'm going to miss you."

"Me too," Peter said softly.

"I mean – I know we didn't know each other for very long," Davy warmed up to his theme. "But I really liked you."

"I really liked you too."

"I thought we had something special. It's kind of a drag to find out that – that we can't be together anymore."

Peter was quiet for a while. Eventually he said, "I don't have to go to France."

The words came immediately and easily to Davy then, "Yeah, you do. It's your dream. I couldn't be responsible for taking that away from you. I just – wish things could've been different. That's all."

"Me too," Peter said. All of a sudden, Davy felt a hand on top of his. It was warm, and gentle and very definitely Peter's and not Ellen's. It helped though. He turned his hand so that they were palm to palm and linked their fingers. They sat like that for a while. It was strange, but it did feel like a goodbye.

"I guess this is it," Peter said.

"I guess so," Davy agreed.

"Take care of yourself, David." Peter reached out with his other hand and touched Davy's shoulder.

"You too." Davy did the same thing. He slid his free hand up Peter's arm. "I suppose I should say it, shouldn't I?"

"I think so," Peter said. Davy didn't know if he was speaking as himself or Ellen.

"Goodbye," he said anyway.

It was meant to be a goodbye hug. It _was_ a goodbye hug. Except when Peter started to pull back then paused, some kind of instinct made Davy follow him and touch his lips to his in a goodbye kiss.

Habit, or something. Except, even though he'd had his eyes closed the whole time he'd never for even one second forgotten that it was Peter in front of him and not Ellen.

Still, it had been a goodbye speech and a goodbye hug and now this was a goodbye kiss. Except that Peter's lips were parted and Davy'd been so busy proving to Ellen's parents that he was trustworthy that they'd never got around to all that much holding or kissing and Davy hadn't minded (much) because yeah he'd wanted it but he'd figured they'd get around to it, except they hadn't and now his lips were sliding against someone else's – Peter, who definitely wasn't Ellen,but it was soft, and good, and then Peter's tongue hesitantly brushed against his – and then it was all that and _hot _too.

Heat flushed through him, prickling from his scalp to his toes, and all he could do was open his mouth wider and kiss back deeper, harder. One hand curled around Peter's neck, fingers sliding into his hair. The other hand slid around his waist. It wasn't a goodbye kiss any more.

But Peter didn't seem to have any objection to that. As himself, or Ellen. When Davy pressed forward, he pressed right back, soft-lipped, supple-tongued and Davy felt desperate. He felt parched with want. He and Ellen had managed a few snatched moments, sweet and mostly innocent and he hadn't minded, not when he'd thought they had all the time in the world. Then, it had been a promise, not a tease…but now, knowing he wasn't going to ever see Ellen again – it suddenly wasn't enough. And that wasn't Ellen's fault, but that didn't change that he was touch-starved, kiss-starved…sex-starved.

And Peter's hand was on his chest, touching him through his pyjamas. His thumb moved absently back and forth, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through him, stiffening his nipple and shooting straight to his cock. He arched into it, then tugged Peter impatiently downward.

He'd never been this insistent with a girl. He'd never needed to be. Considerate, that was him. Understanding. Properly appreciative if things moved in a more physical direction of course, and focused on making sure the girl was more than satisfied.

But this was something else. He felt wild and out of control with wanting. Peter's leg slid between his. A small part of his mind that wasn't taken over by selfish needy desire noted with relief that Peter was hard too, and then he went right back to trying to get himself off. He thrust his erection against Peter's leg, and Peter did the same against his hip. He dug his chin into Peter's shoulder. Peter's mouth was on his neck, kissing. Davy had to scrunch his eyes closed.

In the end, it was the feeling of Peter's hands slipping under his pyjama top and stroking his bare sides that did it for him. He jerked hard against Peter's leg, teeth biting into his bottom lip as everything suddenly flashed white and he came.

A second later and Peter stiffened against him and he felt a pulsing wetness against his hip.

Almost immediately he crashed from a sex high back to earth. Everything was suddenly awkward. The sound of their breathing was very loud in the silence. He tried to think of something, anything to say.

"So that was...goodbye," Peter said eventually. He sounded a little questioning. "I guess…that must be what love 'em and leave 'em means."


	2. Chapter 2

It was awkward afterwards. Obviously.

Davy fidgeted under the covers. He felt like he should say something, but he couldn't lie. But then, the truth seemed too harsh when they were both curled up on Davy's bed in the soft light of afterglow.

He stared up at the ceiling.

Peter got to his feet.

Davy sat up. "Pete. I'm. Um. That…kind of got out of hand. I wasn't planning on – _this. _It just…kind of happened."

It sounded weak as he said it. It sounded like those guys who chased girls until they got what they wanted…and then they stopped chasing. But he wasn't like that. He hadn't been chasing Peter. He hadn't known there was anything there _to _chase. He felt a hot flush creep up his neck.

But Peter nodded. "Yeah. It was kind of a mixed up goodbye."

Davy persisted. "I'm sorry. I – didn't mean for it to go that far."

He hadn't meant for any of it to happen at all. He never would've thought anything like that _could_ happen.

"It's okay," Peter said. "You were upset about Ellen. It's just something that happened."

Davy felt his shoulders relax a little bit. Peter _did _seem okay. And he did seem to understand…better than Davy did even. He was upset about Ellen, of course.

Just for a second, he wondered what reason Peter could've had for doing it.

* * *

The breakup hurt, but not as much as his shoulder. Being dangled out of a window by one arm was an unpleasant experience. He'd liked Jacquie. He'd _really _liked Jacquie. But the sore shoulder had lasted longer than the romance.

"Your arm still buggin' you?" Mike asked a couple of days later. "You should get that looked at."

Micky asked, "Can we afford that?" and made him a special cream.

"I can rub it in for you, if you want," Peter said that night, as he watched Davy try to apply it.

The only thing that made the offer weird, was what had happened. But what had happened didn't matter. At least it wasn't supposed to. And the last thing Davy wanted was to remind Peter of it. Not when it seemed like he'd forgotten.

"Okay," he said.

Because it made him uneasy still, what had happened. Because he'd used Peter. He hadn't meant to, but he had. And that wasn't right. Even if Peter seemed luckily undamaged by the whole thing, he still felt guilty about it.

He hated the weird sort of ashamed feeling when he looked at Peter. The only cure was to force things go back to normal.

Things didn't feel very normal, lying on his stomach on the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut as Peter's hands touched his shoulders, smooth and slippy with the lotion. His touch was hesitant at first, light, but as he worked the stuff into Davy's shoulders he got a bit more confident.

His touch was careful and thorough and there wasn't anything sexual in it. Davy felt tension leaking out of him. The stuff Micky had made warmed as it worked its way into his muscles. He found himself closing his eyes and drifting and just enjoying being touched.

He liked being touched. Just touched. No expectations. And he hardly ever seemed to get enough of it since usually when he was with a girl he was too busy trying to help her with some problem. Which, it wasn't that he _minded. _He liked helping girls out. And he enjoyed the snatched kisses and hand-holding and the hurried embraces – all of it.

He just…would've liked to stretch it out a little longer.

He was half-asleep when the movement of Peter's hands changed. From automatic to something more curious and lingering. Peter's thumbs pressed into his skin in unhurried half-circles. He raised his hands but before Davy had a chance to miss them, he stroked the back of his knuckles against Davy's spine. His fingers brushed even lower, against Davy's ribs.

Davy breathed in carefully. He should stop this. He should tell Peter thanks and go to bed. Alone.

But it felt like his body was opening up under Peter's hands. He'd been twisted up bad even before his shoulder got wrenched, because there'd been Jacquie's family, and her friends, and her work as manager of the Haunted House. They hadn't had a minute alone. Longing was sweet to start – but it turned into a sharp ache if you left it too long.

He breathed out. He didn't say anything.

Peter kept touching him, careful and gentle and lingering on his skin long enough to have an effect. Absorbed. Like he'd forgotten he was doing it. Like he'd gotten lost in it. Davy bit his lip and shifted his hips slightly against the mattress. He couldn't help it.

Peter stopped. "Davy?" he said.

Davy froze.

"I…Davy…" – Peter said. He sounded a little dazed. Then slowly, and in a different voice, he said, "Turn around."

Davy's breath came faster. His heart kicked up a notch. He didn't move.

Carefully, Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. It was warm. "Davy. Turn around," he said again.

Davy did, levering himself up onto his knees, facing Peter. His face burned as Peter's eyes slid from his down his chest and toward his tented pajama pants. Peter took a breath and looked up again. He rested his hand on Davy's shoulder again. Davy let him.

Slowly, very slowly, his hand slid down Davy's chest. They both watched it. He brushed the back of his hand against Davy's stomach, a light touch that made Davy take a sudden breath in, and then his fingers were at the waistband of the pajama pants.

Their eyes met.

Peter licked his lips, a bit nervous. "Can I…?"

Davy meant to tell him that it was a bad idea, and that they should probably stop this right now before it went any further and made things awkward.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Okay," he said instead.

So slowly Davy could have easily stopped him if he'd really wanted to, Peter's hand came down, touching his erection through the fabric of his pajamas. Davy dug his fingers into his palm to keep himself from thrusting up. It didn't matter, because seconds later Peter's hand was fiddling with his waistband, drawing it down and slipping his hand inside. Davy had to close his eyes. His hips thrust forward sharply.

It didn't take much. Just the feeling of someone's hand on his cock. Someone's hand that wasn't his. _Peter's_ hand.

He bit back a moan as he came.

He breathed in and out. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal. Peter took his hand away.

Davy opened his eyes. Kinda reluctantly.

Peter didn't seem too thrown out by it. Even though he was resting his hands on his crossed legs and he looked tense that was probably more because while he'd taken care of Davy he hadn't touched himself.

That made everything so much worse than the first time. At least then it had been mutual. Now with Davy sitting and – _done, _and Peter in a whole other place, it was even more awkward than last time.

It was unbearable. The weird half-hot half-shameful feeling was spreading through his chest and it wasn't that he wanted to drag this out or anything but he couldn't, he _couldn't _take it if Peter got off his bed without – getting off. Things weren't right by a long shot but that would make them too unequal. That would make him feel even worse.

"Uh. Do you. Want to?" he made a weird gesture.

But Peter seemed to understand. Thankfully. "Yeah. Um. Can I?"

It was like he'd been waiting for Davy to give his permission. The guilt crawled all over his body like spiders.

He unzipped his pants and Davy felt an awful sense of relief when Peter started to touch himself. That he didn't expect Davy to do it. Of course, that made him feel even worse afterwards. Because Peter had got him off so free and generous and here he was, sitting there meanly holding himself back and not helping.

He shifted closer, and looked down blankly at Peter's hand, moving swift on his cock. He couldn't. He didn't know how.

His eyes moved up to Peter's face set in concentration. Slowly he reached out and laid his hand on Peter's jaw.

He could do _this _though. And he had to do _something_, because otherwise, he would have taken from Peter, used him and given nothing back and that killed him.

He leaned in. Peter's lips parted immediately when their mouths touched, and Davy didn't allow himself to hesitate. He slid his tongue into Peter's mouth and kissed him long and sweet and deep until Peter stiffened and pulled away panting, and rested his forehead against Davy's.

And that was that. Again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Er - any comments would be cool, if people are reading this. Doesn't even have to be positive - if you've got the time, you can tell me if and how I suck and I'll try and fix it!**

* * *

They'd never even kissed. They'd only known each other a day, and so that shouldn't have mattered to Davy – except it did because now…now they were never _going_ to kiss. Not when Caroline's grandfather had finally decided she was the right person to bequeath his fortune to.

They went for a long walk along the beach. "It's just. If I'm going to stay with my granddad now…" she said.

Davy nodded. He understood. He let go of her hand and they walked back the way they came.

It was hard to end something before it had a chance to even begin. It made him feel jammed. Like there was a cork stuck inside him, and all this pressure building up and up in his stomach. Because of that, and the stuff that had been happening with Peter, he thought it was better to stay out of their room.

In theory it was a good idea. In practice, it meant making out with Peter on the couch. It was crazy – he didn't even know how it happened. One minute Peter was sitting down next to him and asking him why he was watching the test pattern. The next thing he knew, Davy was pressing him back, lying on top of Peter on the couch, tongue in his mouth.

He didn't know how it happened. But he knew _why. _He kissed Peter because he couldn't kiss Caroline, and that was a terrible wrong thing to do to anyone, but especially a friend. Especially _Peter_, who didn't have a double-dealing bone in his body.

It was just. Peter was so – willing. When Davy ran his thumb down his neck, Peter opened his mouth eagerly, tongue stroking hot across Davy's lower lip before sliding inside. When Davy put his hands on his shoulders, Peter went down immediately, without a trace of hesitation. He spread his legs too, inviting Davy to rub against him. Holding nothing back.

His hands pulled Davy's shirt out of his trousers and slid up and down his bare back, and it made Davy crazy. He thrust his tongue in and out of Peter's mouth, so crude it made hot shame flush through him. Peter made a noise in the back of his throat. It didn't sound like an objection.

He wouldn't have kissed Caroline like that – and that meant he definitely shouldn't be doing it to Peter, who was his friend. He forced himself to draw back and gasp out, "M'sorry. I can't."

Peter struggled upwards slightly. "Oh," he said. He licked his lips and Davy tried not to twitch. "It's…okay. I shouldn't have disturbed you. You were watching the test pattern. Maybe later."

Davy stared down at him. Peter's hair was kind of messed up. "I meant - I shouldn't have done this at all."

Peter frowned up at him.

"Because it's wrong," he explained.

Peter kept frowning.

"Because I'm. Taking advantage. Of you," he explained. The words stumbled out awkwardly.

The frown seemed to get darker and Peter folded his hands across his chest.

"I'm sorry," Davy said. "I didn't mean to" –

"Maybe I'm the one taking advantage of _you. _Did you ever think of that?" Peter glared up at him, a petulant look on his face.

Davy had to answer honestly, "No."

"Why not? Why do I always have to be taken advantage of? Why can't I be the one taking advantage of someone _else_ for a change?"

Davy couldn't help smiling. "I think past history's against you on that one."

"Or maybe it's the perfect alibi," Peter argued. "I mean – who would ever suspect _me_?"

Davy He shifted back a little. It was kinda strange to be having this conversation while balanced over Peter. Still, he had to admit, "I suppose you've got a point."

Theoretically, that was. Because, it was really really difficult (almost impossible) to envision Peter playing some kind of long game.

Maybe Peter had some trouble with it too, because he went on. "And anyway, even if you're the one doing the – taking advantage…well, if I _want _to be taken advantage of then does it even _count _as taking advantage?"

It was weird. He knew Peter liked what they did, had done, because well – he'd gotten off, hadn't he? Both times. And it wasn't like he'd wanted to stop this time. But just hearing Peter say that he wanted it, wanted Davy to take advantage of him, it made something jump in his stomach down low.

It was sick. It was wrong. It was somehow incredibly hot. But –

"Do you like me?" he made himself ask.

The frown on Peter's face vanished immediately. "Of course I like you Davy, you're my friend, why" –

"I don't mean. What I'm asking is…do you _like _me?" What he really meant but couldn't say was 'Do you love me?' because it would be wrong and awful to use Peter's honest feelings just to score some easy sex to take the edge off. It should. It should be a _mutual _taking advantage. If there was to be any taking advantage at all.

Peter licked his lips again. His hand skated against Davy's side. "I like _this," _he said eventually. His fingers traced against Davy's ribcage. "And it's not. It's not like I can just…do this with just anyone." It could have been an accident, the way his hand ended up just above Davy's zipper by the time he finished.

But it didn't feel like an accident. And then Peter said, "It's. It's hard enough finding a girl. This…"

Davy felt kinda relieved to be honest. Because Peter seemed to get at least a little that this situation was – not regular. He didn't mean it as a judgment, he couldn't because he'd gotten off too, hadn't he? Just it was good to know that _Peter_ knew that it mightn't be the safest thing in the world to go out looking for. He looked down at Peter's open face, his unguarded eyes. He didn't want Peter to get hurt.

Peter stared back up at him. He swallowed. "David."

"Yeah?" He lowered his voice to match Peter's.

"Take – I mean. You can." He pulled Davy down on top of him. Davy let him. He spoke right into Davy's ear. "Take advantage of me."

The words vibrated through him. They sent shivers down his spine. And he turned his face into Peter's neck and kissed him. Peter's hair tickled his nose. Soft. He breathed in deeply before moving down Peter's neck.

Peter's hands gripped his hips before sliding over to cup Davy's hard-on through his trousers. Davy squeezed his eyes shut but grabbed Peter's wrist. He managed to grit out, "No."

"But. I thought" – Peter looked suddenly lost.

Davy shook his head. "You first."

If they were going to do this…then Davy wanted to do it right. Equal. Peter getting off couldn't be an afterthought. That wasn't fair. He scrambled back and motioned Peter to do the same. There was a feeling in his belly that was partly excitement and partly dread as he moved his hand from Peter's thigh to the waistband of his pajamas. He took a deep breath and then let his hand push into Peter's pants.

His cock was hot and hard in Davy's hand. It felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He worked by touch, and buried his face in Peter's shoulder. He was afraid the weirdness of what he would see if he looked down would paralyze him.

He tightened his grip on Peter's cock, rubbing his thumb over the head on every upstroke. Peter's breathing changed, got heavier and faster, and Davy took that as his cue to speed up. A second later and Peter came all over his hand.

He grabbed Davy's face in his hands and kissed him, grateful, mouth almost missing its mark. It made Davy want to smile.

"Sorry," Peter said a few seconds later. Davy frowned at him, and Peter grabbed his right hand, the hand he'd come all over and rubbed it against his pajama top.

"It's okay," Davy said.

Peter kissed the side of his face and shifted closer. "You now," he said. His hand was already unbuttoning Davy's trousers. Davy lifted up enough to push his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh.

Peter didn't seem to have a problem looking down, and Davy couldn't stop himself from peeping this time. Peter's hand was warm and sure and Davy wasn't sure that the sight of his cock thrusting into the circle of Peter's fist should be so weirdly hotly fascinating to him.

"Davy," Peter said into his ear and the vibration of his voice shot straight down Davy's spine. He bit his lip and managed to say, "Hmm?" He pushed up sharply into Peter's hand.

"Davy. David. Just," Peter rubbed his nose against Davy's ear. "I was thinking…and. I. I want to…can I suck you off?"

Davy made a noise he was pretty sure he'd never made before and came hard. When he finally opened his eyes, Peter was hovering over him looking kind of surprised and maybe a little bit disappointed. Davy pulled him down and kissed him, the same thankful kiss Peter'd given him, and promised, voice shaking from the laugh that wanted to burst through, "Next time. Next time, okay?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Ta very much to seaecho! :-)**

It was the making out that he liked best.

Which, it wasn't like he was saying that the rest of it – the blowjobs and stuff – was bad exactly. Even though, yeah, judged objectively, the blowjobs probably weren't up to the standard of experienced girls with perfect red-lipstick pouts. But Davy wouldn't call his position 'objective' by a long shot. Also it wasn't like he was all _that_ familiar with how practiced red lips felt wrapped around his cock. His relationships rarely lasted long enough to get to that point. It wasn't like he could talk.

And there was something in Peter's very inexperience that made the whole thing feel raw and exciting. The nudging of Peter's soft, hesitant tongue against his cock was electric. The eager and sometimes clumsy movements of his mouth lit a fire down low in Davy's stomach.

That it was Peter, doing this to him – _for_ him…that just hit him hard. Except, that was all so mixed up with guilt that it wasn't entirely a pleasant experience. Because yeah this thing was a give and take situation, except Peter was doing all the giving. And Davy was doing all the taking.

He wasn't comfortable with that. He'd offered. The first time Peter'd gone down on him, he'd waited a few minutes for the pounding of his heart to slow down and his legs to feel like legs again, before levering himself up and crawling down the bed. It felt like he had a block of ice in his stomach and Peter cupped his face in his hands and said, "It's okay. Um. You don't have to."

"I don't mind," Davy lied. "You did it for me." And he had. So Davy would. Fair was fair.

"No," Peter said, and pulled him up. "Don't."

"But don't you want"

"Not if you don't want to," Peter said, and shrugged. "It's okay."

It didn't feel okay. Davy'd never pegged himself for that kind of guy, the one who was content to sit there and let himself get taken care of – and not bother to reciprocate. It wasn't how he thought of himself. He liked things to be mutual. Equal. At least, he always had before. So this wasn't a good feeling.

He'd talked to Peter about it after. Kind of. He'd tried to slow things down and get things back on an even keel. If Peter wasn't getting blowjobs, then Davy shouldn't either. He sat cross-legged on his bed and tried to explain it to Peter.

Peter'd just looked at him and said, "But why not?"

"I just. I feel like I'm taking advantage," Davy said, because that was what it did feel like.

"Why? How can you be taking advantage of me if I want to do it?" Peter had asked. And that was hard to argue with when the only reason Davy had was that _he _wasn't totally comfortable giving it back. That seemed kind of blunt and hurtful to put out there.

He tried though. "Because – it's not fair. Not when I'm not…doing the same for you."

Peter kissed behind his ear. "But I like it." His hand was warm on Davy's neck. "And I want to do it." His other hand caught Davy's and played with his fingers. "And I like what you do to me," he whispered against Davy's lips. That was the end of the discussion.

At least with the making out, he could give as good as he got. And – it was nice. More than nice. He never got to make out with girls for as long as he wanted. Generally overprotective parents and crises got in the way. But with Peter, he got to enjoy long, unhurried make-out sessions just sprawled on either of their beds, all warm hands and soft mouths and stroking tongues. Also he didn't feel like he was letting Peter down in some weird way for once, so he could just relax and enjoy it.

Even with all the nice making-out and the guilty-good blowjobs it was unsettling. Confusing. So when the band met Aurora Dinsdale outside The Paradise it was familiar and easy and he ended up falling back into routine and asking her out before he even remembered Peter.

He even asked her out _in front of _Peter and this made him feel extra bad when he did remember, but by then it was too late. Not that Peter seemed thrown by it, which was kind of weird in itself. Peter sat there in the diner with Mike and Micky and watched him put the moves on Aurora like he'd never kissed Davy, or petted him, or used his mouth to –

Davy didn't know how to take it. He waited until they were alone in their room and then he waited some more. Then finally he said. "So. Um. Today. With…Aurora."

Peter looked at him.

"I just. Wasn't expecting that. And I kind of – got carried away. I didn't mean to just – ask her out in front of you. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Peter asked. "Didn't you want to ask her out?"

"Well…yeah," Davy admitted. "I guess. But. I shouldn't have. At least – not in front of you."

Peter looked at him like he really didn't understand. Slowly like he was thinking something out, he said, "It's okay. If you want to go out with her, you should go out with her."

"I just. I thought, with _this_," Davy gestured awkwardly between them, "maybe…"

Peter frowned. "No," he said. "Sure I'm taking advantage of you, but it wouldn't be fair to try and stop you from seeing girls."

Davy didn't get it really. Thanks to this whole thing his idea of fair was all out of whack. But he'd be lying if what Peter said it wasn't kind of a relief. Aurora was a blissful kind of normal compared to what he and Peter'd stumbled into. He knew how to do this – sit next to a girl and hold her hand and flirt. It came easy to him. It felt natural.

It was also a relief to have an excuse to dial down things between him and Peter. He felt like he was getting on dry land again after being in a crazy whirlpool. It wasn't that he didn't _like _the whirlpool. It just felt – different. Out of control. Also, it wasn't fair to keep using Peter as some kind of a stopgap. Peter deserved better than that.

So he went out with Aurora. He went for walks on the beach with her. He took her to dinner. He almost missed a couple of practices because they were talking. Sometimes he missed the long makeout sessions with Peter (and sometimes even the blowjobs. Which just made him feel guilty and a little sick), but he thought he was doing okay.

Until Aurora confessed that she was the sister of one of the guys who was trying to take their new gig at the Paradise.

"You're a nice guy. I didn't want to lie to you any more," she said. She tapped her fingers against the table in the restaurant.

Davy blinked. He opened his mouth only to close it again. "Thanks," he said finally. Inadequately.

She shrugged. "It's not like the plan was working anyway. You didn't miss one rehearsal."

"Well, thanks anyway," he said again. Then, as the silence loomed large, "Do you – still want to stay for dinner."

She shook her head. "You're a nice guy. But blood's thicker than water."

He didn't head to the pad straightaway. Instead he went for a long walk. It was quiet and the lights were all off when he got back. He took off his shoes when he got inside the door. He wandered around the couch and into the kitchen, slow and aimless, then into his and Peter's bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, and rested his back against it. He stared at Peter, all curled up in his bed. He took a couple of steps forward, only to waver and stop. He turned toward his own bed, but just as suddenly turned back. He sat down on Peter's bed.

Peter took a deep breath in as he woke up and rolled onto his back. He yawned.

"I like that," Davy said. He smiled. "Nice way to say hello. I'm going to think I'm boring you."

"Hi," Peter said.

"Hi."

He rubbed his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Davy said. He swallowed. "Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know," Peter said.

"Well it is," Davy said. "Everything's fine."

He should've moved off the bed then, he knew. He was a fraction of a second too slow with the response but he would have, except that Peter reached out and caught hold of his hand.

"Davy."

"Just," he bit his lip. Peter's fingers were warm against his. Absently he rubbed his thumb against Peter's palm. "I thought. And it's okay if you don't want – but I thought we could. Maybe. If you wanted."

Peter looked up at him, all shades of grey because of the lack of light, and that made everything easier and harder all at once for Davy – not being able to see him clearly.

"Maybe?" Peter repeated.

"Yeah," Davy said. And because it was too late anyway he braced his arms on either side of Peter's head and bent down and kissed him so fleetingly his mouth only started to tingle after he'd moved back. "You know."

Peter pressed his lips together for a second. "Yes," he said.

"Yes?" Davy repeated.

"Yes – I want to," Peter said. His hand skated up Davy's arm.

"Yeah. Okay. Good," he said dumbly, before he jerked into action and leaned down again.

The dark blurred everything, making the edges softer. All the lines that were so clear in the daytime were invisible now. He kissed Peter long enough that it started to feel like a stall, then he made his way down, sliding underneath the sheets.

"Davy," Peter managed when Davy pulled at his pajamas. "Um. You don't" –

"I want to," Davy said, and he realized it was true, as he bent his head and hoped for the best. He touched his lips to Peter's cock…

And it was easier than he'd thought it would be when it came to it.


	5. Chapter 5

**If anyone's still following this, sorry this is so short. Trying to get back into the swing of it!**

* * *

Fucking around between girls. They didn't talk about it after that, but it was settled.

Davy felt like he should feel worse about it, but at least – at least _now_ it was a more equal fucking around. And it felt good to be able to make Peter feel good. Davy liked making people he liked feel good. As nice as it was to _receive_ things like kisses and touches and blowjobs, it was just as nice to be able to _give _those things. It was good to know that he _could_ do those things. It made _him _feel good.

It was _fun_.

So now, in between girls, he made all the more effort with Peter.

"What do you want?" he could ask, because now he was almost sure he could do it, give Peter what he wanted. He'd put Peter's cock in his mouth, and he'd brought Peter off and it had been good. Anything Peter could ask for paled in comparison.

Even though the stuff Peter _did _ask for always ended up surprising him.

"Come on," he said, the first time, when Peter hadn't answered his question. "I don't mind. Just tell me whatever it is, and I'll do it."

And he did. It was just – Peter wanted lots of different things. Nothing bad. Nothing he had a problem with doing. But every time, he managed to catch Davy off guard.

That first time, Peter'd wanted to jerk himself off.

Davy'd frowned and said, "But. I mean. _I_ can – you don't have to do it…_yourself_." He'd wondered if he'd done something wrong that time. It hadn't been very experienced, obviously, but Peter'd _come_. That had to count for something.

"No, I know. I just. I'd like it if you…if I could…" he'd bit his lip. "It's okay. It doesn't matter."

"No, no," Davy'd said immediately. "It's – whatever you want. I don't _mind_."

It was half-true. When Peter'd explained he didn't _mind _exactly, but he had felt a little weird about it, half lying down on the bed, trying to act relaxed. Peter threw one leg over his hip, straddling him. Then he stopped for a few seconds looking indecisive, before he licked his palm. He took his dick in his hand and started to stroke. His eyes slid from Davy's face to his shoulders to his chest, and the flushed head of his cock kept pushing between his fingers as his hips thrust up. It was arresting to watch. Davy got so wrapped up in it that he almost forgot the whole purpose of this thing, and he flinched when Peter finally tensed and came, all over his stomach.

Peter stared down. Panting, he reached out with one finger and rubbed his come into Davy's skin and that wasn't something Davy ever would have wanted or thought to ask for, but it made his cock harden all the same. And after Peter took him in his hand and brought him off he'd done the same thing, spread the come on his hand over Davy's belly, mingling it with his own. He had an absorbed expression on his face, and Davy felt like he _should _have felt ruined, squalid. Instead he felt like a canvas, like he'd been painted. He felt turned on.

One time Peter asked _him_ to jerk off. "I just wondered how you do it," he said. So Davy'd shown him, and it had been bizarre, fisting his cock under Peter's watchful eyes. It had felt kind of dirty to do this in front of him, like he was shameless enough to put on a show for his roommate, like he didn't care about being watched doing this really private thing.

He found that hot too.

Another time Peter got him to take off everything while he stayed fully clothed, and he'd backed Davy against the wall. Cold at his back, the rough brush of Peter's clothes at his front, his skin felt so sensitive that it only took a couple of frantic thrusts against Peter's thigh before he spurted onto Peter's brown pants.

Some stuff Peter wanted to try he wasn't as surprised at liking, like when they 69ed. It was kind of a given that he'd like feeling Peter's lips around his cock. Who wouldn't like getting their cock sucked? It would've been strange if he hadn't liked it. The weird part was maybe how much he enjoyed doing the same thing to Peter. He liked it when a flick of his tongue could make Peter stiffen, he liked it when one long lick from root to tip made Peter's thighs tense.

Liking it wasn't a bad thing. Just, how _much _he liked it sometimes it took him aback.

This was how a lot of stuff with Peter went. It was like he was constantly finding out about new things he liked – but being surprised by how much he liked them. Like the way Peter's thumbs felt stroking across his nipples. Looking at it, it made sense, but that didn't adequately describe the shivery, back-arching pleasure of it. Or the bluntness of Peter's short nails digging into his shoulders, his hips. Or the slow dip of his tongue into Davy's mouth, somehow indescribably sexy to him.

It kept him feeling just a bit off balance, no matter how many times any of this stuff happened. Even when he should have been used to it.

Still being constantly startled by how good this was really wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. Davy could live with that.


End file.
